Forged
by Druid Moon
Summary: ToT. Sometimes, being of the earth just isn't enough. Sometimes you have to go through fire to find out just how strong you really are. Sometimes, it takes the love and support of others to help you find that strength. Hint of romance if you squint hard enough.


Standard disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing except the concept of Etain's personality.

* * *

It was just too much.

She had sat through the wedding. She had congratulated them outside the chapel, had clapped along with the rest of the townspeople. She had smiled and nodded as everyone gossiped about the first wedding on the Island in years-

But the news that Anissa was pregnant and expecting Jin's baby was too much.

She barely managed to form a coherent goodbye to Ruth, stumbled out the door past Craig and tore down the path towards her home. Her small little ranch, empty and alone and echoing with noises that will never be heard again.

Jin will never step outside her door with gifts; those are reserved for his wife and future child now. He will never come to visit her, will never call her on the phone just to make sure she isn't overdoing it on the ranch in the summer heart again. Will never smile in that special, secretive way he smiled when she handed him a cup of hot tea or a fresh bundle of herbs.

She thinks to run home, to hide in the emptiness until the ache dulls and her heart stops beating out the pain that fills it. She thinks to maybe bury her face in Rhiannon's side, to let the smell of hay and oats and cow fill her head until there's nothing but the harmony of sun-warmed straw and breathing.

She runs to the mines instead. She has no food, no hammer- she carried nothing with her today in her quest to purchase enough seeds to fill her tiny plot of land. The trees cover a decent part of it now, but she can at least grow the crops around them. As it is, her empty rucksack bounces against her back as she runs full tilt down the lane. Overhead the sky cracks and rumbles and she thinks it fits; it fits her and it fits the situation and it just fits.

She tumbles into the mine's opening just as the clouds finally break and flood the world. She gasps for breath as she nods to Chloe, dodging her questions with a broken smile and half-hearted wave. She almost falls down the steps leading deeper into the dark, deeper into the shadows and the quiet and the smells of dust and mold and rock. Scents that don't remind her of broken promises and shattered dreams, of tattered hopes and gilded lies.

It isn't until her foot catches and she's sent tumbling through the ground, landing in a sprawl as the first tear falls. She pushes herself up slightly, her arms shaking and unsteady from the effort, and finally staggers to her feet. She limps to a rock in the corner. There is dust coating the surface, and shadows surround it; perfect for her and her mood. She sits down and wraps her arms around her knees. She buries her face and tries to breathe, tries to remember when it was easier and this didn't hurt, but all she can remember is the look on Jin's face as they sit on the grass near Caramel Falls and watch the fireflies. She remembers the sound of his voice and the blush on his cheek as he invites her to lunch, the way the light catches in his hair as he stands outside the Clinic and talks to-

to Anissa.

She curls in on herself even more. The thought of the long-haired girl has brought another stab, another pang in her chest that makes it even harder to breath.

She feels used and broken, like a cheap cup that was only pretty until a new one was seen, a new cup with a prettier pattern and more delicate and better suited to a doctor with delicate hands. She feels like a cracked and chipped mug that was put to the side because it was too broken, too useless, to be used anymore. She feels cheated, like she should be angry and raging and fighting instead of sitting here in the dark-

"Etain? Is that you?"

-o-

He doesn't see her run into the mine. He is inside, pumping the bellows for his great uncle's forge while the old man speaks to Mira about something or other. It's Chloe's arrival, as she crashes through the door with tears in her big eyes and her hands curled into tiny little fists, that alerts him to a problem.

Within seconds, he is leaping over the counter and kneeling down, sweeping her into his arms and asking what was wrong, was she hurt, what made her cry-

"Owen!" she wails, hiding her face in his shoulder. "Etain ran into the mine, I think she's hurt! I saw her fall down the steps and then I heard her start crying- I ran here to get you but it's raining and she's alone and it's so dark-"

"Don't worry, Little Bit," he stands up with her nestled on his hip. "I'll go find her and bring her up, and you can see that she's alright."

"Promise?" Chloe stared up at him, tears shining on her face.

"Promise. You just stay here with Gramps and Mira and get warm and dry, okay?" he settles her on the counter, her green sneakers banging against the paneling. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Ramsey wince and he knows that he'd be scrubbing the wood clean when he got back, but it was worth it.

_She_ was worth it.

"Okay." Chloe gulped, her lip trembling. She nodded at him before Mira is at her side, wrapping her in a blanket and cooing to her in a soft voice. It was amazing how talented the metal smith is with children, but then again, she's a gentle soul and a natural mother at heart.

He nods to Ramsey as he turned towards the door, a plan to get the rancher out of the mines safely already forming in his mind.

He wasn't blind; he had seen how her smiles had become brittle and her laughter hollow whenever someone mentioned the doctor and his new bride. He knows that she and Jin had something- whispers around the Bar said that he had confessed to her under Alan's Tree. Whispers around the Markets claimed that it was the sight of Jin kissing another woman that drove Anissa to confess to the doctor.

He knows that it broke her heart when she received the wedding invitation in the mail.

It isn't hard to find her. Over the sound of water dripping comes a whisper, a gasping shuddering noise that fades in and out of the dark. Under the scent of wet rock and dust was her natural scent, sun and grass and animal, mixed with the bitter tang of tears. He follows the scuffed marks in the dirt, down the steps and into the dark of the mine. There, in the corner, came the noise again, and he knows that he's found her.

Now it was time to implement his plan.

"Etain, is that you?"

-o-

"Owen?"

She flinches at the sound of her voice, tight and scratchy and full of tears. Anyone with half a brain could tell she'd been crying, or was close enough to crying that it really didn't matter. She hadn't seen him in her blind rush down the stairs, had only see the bright spot of color that was his cousin before she let the darkness swallow her whole. She didn't want to be seen, didn't want to be found. She wanted her brightness to fade away to soot gray and mud brown, until her outside matched what she felt inside.

She can feel him come closer, his presence stirring up the dark that she worked so hard to find. Even though he dressed in dark colors, he radiates life and energy and warmth. He is a contradiction, and it infuriates her because right now she just wants to be empty and cold and _alone._

"Etain, what happened?" he moves closer, and she can feel the shadows swirling away from him and his warmth like sand in water. She jumps when he touched her shoulder; she breaks completely when she meet his eyes.

He doesn't say anything when she starts to babble and sob all over him. He wraps her in his arms and holds her close, strokes her hair and wraps her in warmth and energy and life. She lets it all soak into her bones, into her heart and soul and mind. The heat numbs the sharp edges to where they only hurt a little, instead of stabbing with every breath. The energy gives her the motive to move, to stand and clutch onto his jacket and bury her face in his chest. All that he is, strong and living and there, is hers to take if she wants, if she needs, and she desperately needs the stability that he represents right now. Inhaling the scent of skin and male and forge, she feels the tears burn down her cheeks and drip down her chin as he pulls her closer. She is embarrassed and humiliated that she has broken this much, that someone had shattered her confidence and her self-belief, and the fact that he isn't judging her for it makes it worse.

She doesn't notice when her legs started to tremble and give out; he does. She doesn't notice when he sweeps her off her feet and cradles her in his lap; he takes off his jacket and wraps her in the folds so she won't get cold. She doesn't realize that her eyes are drooping and that her sobs are quieting; he waits until she is asleep before slowly, gently standing with her in his arms. He carries her up the steps, rucksack and all, as carefully as he would carry Chloe up to bed, all the while sneaking glances at her to make sure she was still sleeping.

Tears build up over time until they burst free, leaving the person hollow and empty as a glass, and just as fragile. Whatever happened between the little rancher, the doctor and the farmer's daughter is tragic, but whatever happened is between the three of them and none of his business.

He winces as he makes it to the mine's opening and sees Chloe waiting, with Ramsey next to her in an old raincoat and Mira with an umbrella. It takes the metal smith one look to ascertain what has happened, and then she is next to him, her umbrella held high enough that it covers all three of them. She gives him a small smile, and he remembers with a pang that Mira has suffered a broken heart as well- of course she would know the signs.

She nods to Ramsey and Chloe. "We'll take her home," she speaks in a soft voice so as to not wake the sleeping girl. "You two head back to the shop. I'll head home after this and we'll check on her tomorrow to make sure she didn't catch cold down there."

"What if she did?" Ramsey reaches down and holds Chloe's hand to lead the little girl back home. "She and the doctor aren't on the best of terms right now. She'll need medicine."

"I know a few recipes, Ramsey." Mira's voice gains a slight hint of steel as she lightly pushes Owen's arm. "She'll be fine."

-o-

It is a silent walk back to Etain's ranch. The rain patters against the umbrella, sliding off and dripping down his back. It's cold, and he fights not to stiffen and fidget against the chill when the girl is still in his arms. Mira is lost in her thoughts again, her expression guarded and slightly dreamy- an expression the residents of Waffle Town know to be a sign that she is thinking of her ex-husband. He wants to say something, anything, to break the silence, but his mind is blank and all he can focus on was the soft, even exhales against his neck and the warmth of the little rancher as he carries her home.

He waits while Mira wrestles with the door to the house. Etain had purchased a silly little plaque from Dale a few months back- he was on his way to ask about sending some lumber to help reinforce the mine and had seen her outside in the sunlight, holding the wooden sign up to the light and beaming with pride.

-o-

"_Isn't it lovely?" she asks, her eyes sparkling. "It's named after a monument in a far-off land. My mother says our family lived close by, and that it was a gateway to the world of fairies and sprites. Fitting for an island of rainbows and Goddesses, don't you think?"_

"_Tara Hill?" he read aloud, watching how she brightens at his attention. "It sounds pretty enough."_

"_It will be pretty enough to match." Her eyes are full of fire as she spoke. "Tara Hill will live up to it's namesake, just you wait and see!"_

_He grins at her enthusiasm and nods. "I can't wait."_

_She grins back, her hands tight on the plaque. "I can't either."_

-o-

Mira finally opens the door, holding the umbrella so he can enter first and keep Etain dry while she closes the umbrella behind them. He crosses the room as quietly as possible and lays her down on her bed, still wrapped in his jacket. Mira is by her side immediately, hands working to remove her muddy boots and protect the white bedspread from the grime.

"You can go now, Owen," the older woman murmurs. "I'll take care of her now, and we'll come back tomorrow."

He nods but doesn't move, watching as Mira unclasps the simple silver pendant from around Etain's neck and places it on the bureau. It isn't until the metal smith turns and sees him still standing there that she raises a questioning brow.

"Uh, my jacket." he rubs the back of his head in slight embarrassment. "I need it back."

Mira's eyes widen before she smiles in understanding. With one deft move, she leans down to slip the jacket out from under the unconscious rancher and tuck her under the blankets at the same time.

"Here," Mira holds out the green leather with a soft smile. "I'll walk back with you, as far as I can. Just give me a moment and we'll go."

While she bustles around for something to write with, Owen takes the time to study Etain's home as she sleeps behind him. Neat and tidy, with a toolbox by the door and the heater in the corner, it's plain to see that she lived a simple life. The only sign of extravagance are the several cooking instruments sitting on the counter and a large fridge within easy reach of the counter space. A small television and classic phone sit together by the bookcase, but the buttons on both seemed bright and new while all the bindings of the books seemed well-worn and creased.

He is still musing on her choice of entertainment when Mira appears at his elbow. She gently tugs on his arm and leads him towards the door, nodding when she has the umbrella open once more. "Tomorrow. I promise."

"Tomorrow." he agrees, casting one last glance over his shoulder.

-o-

She wakes up alone.

She is wrapped in her blankets, tucked into her bed with her boots by the wall and her pendant on top of the bureau. An empty tea cup and saucer are left on her table, and a small piece of paper is pinned underneath.

_If you need to talk, I can listen._

_-Mira_

Slowly, groggily, she places the paper down on the table and turns to regard the skies outside. Still raining, which means weeds to pull and animals to feed. It means the mines are flooded and the fish aren't biting. It means she could make money working in town or at one of the shops, but the whole town will be nothing but full of gossip and stories about the newlyweds' baby, and she just can't take that.

With a sigh, she picks up her sickle and her hoe before turning to the door. She can at least maintain the land, and feed the animals, before coming back inside and existing in the empty echoes.

It isn't until she picks up her pendant that she notices she is shaking. She doesn't feel particularly sick, but she doesn't feel particularly strong either. She feels like she's... _existing_, and that is enough for now. Hollow and empty and cold, but existing, and somehow able to put one foot in front of the other and go outside into the storm.

It's bad; the rain is cold and slicing, weeds have grown up and even some of her crops have been knocked down by the wind. She sets to work, her mind going numb like her hands as she clears the land and removes the waste. She brings the fallen crops into the barn with her- the cows can use the extra fattening from the not-quite ripe breadfruit, and at least this way someone benefits from it.

She mixes it in with the fodder and feeds Rhiannon and her calf, Blodwyn. She keeps with the tradition of "magic" names- something her great-grandmother had done years ago and had fallen by the wayside as the family line moved away from farming. It wasn't until her own birth and naming- Etain, a fairy princess from a long ago land- that it had been restarted. Her mother claimed that she had her great-grandmother's soul, and that she had to be named in her honor. It was in her great-grandmother's honor that she came to Waffle Island to ranch.

She can't help but think that her great-grandmother wouldn't have let her heart get broken like this.

-o-

She continues to _exist_ for the next two weeks, leaving the ranch only to harvest wood and stone for future projects, or to fish in the stream nearby. She orders her seeds and her supplies by phone, leaving the money in the mailbox for the deliveries. People began to whisper when it reaches the end of the first week. The longer she goes without visiting the townfolk, the more content she is. The longer she goes without visiting, the more lurid and insane the stories become; she's sick, she's dying, she has met the Harvest Goddess and had transcended mere mortal companionship.

The last comes from an intoxicated Gil in the Bar one night, as he sits drunk and waxing poetic to a very perturbed Kathy.

Etain turns away any and all visitors to the ranch. Ruth attempts to gain entrance with a meal of eggs and fish and tea, but Etain doesn't answered the door when she knocks. Ruth leaves the meal, only to find it on Souffle Farm's doorstep the next day, untouched with a very firmly worded note that thanks her for the effort but please never do that again as Etain is not an invalid and does not want to be treated as such.

Yolanda is next to attempt this time with a cherry pie, only to have it delivered back to her house in the middle of the night. A bunch of herbs accompanies the pie, but no one is able to tell if it is a thank you or an apology as no note accompanies it. Later on, he overhears Yolanda tell Maya that a note appeared a week later, thanking her and offering her a supply of breadfruit if she wanted it for the inn.

Mira is the only one who has luck. Owen can tell when she goes to visit the little rancher; she quietly goes towards the ranch when her shift ends and comes into work late the morning after. Ramsey is annoyed with it at first, until he realizes that Mira can calm Chloe's worry and panic over her friend.

"She's strong, Chloe. She'll survive."

It isn't much, but it's enough to soothe the little girl's tears. Owen has stayed away, respecting her obvious wish to be left alone, until one day he wakes to Ramsey's hollering about mail and gosh-darn kids not following the rules.

He stumbles down the steps to find a packed lunch waiting for him; southern fried rice, a blueberry cocktail, and corn soup. He looks up to see Chloe beaming over a box of fancy seashells, glass beads strung into a necklace, and a pineapple juice. Ramsey himself has a bowl of buckwheat noodles, a plate of sushi and herbal tea. He's trying hard not to appear pleased, but Owen can see the slight flush of happiness on the old man's face.

"Owen, Owen! There's a note!" Chloe waves the paper at him frantically, her face split into the biggest smile he's seen in months. "Look! She's alright!"

_Dear Ramsey, Chloe, and Owen,_

_Thank you for looking out for me that day._

_I hope you enjoy your gifts; I worked hard to make them._

_I'm sorry for worrying you all._

_I'm fine, I promise. I just needed some time by myself._

_I'll try to stop by more often in person, but no guarantees. _

_Thanks again._

_-Etain_

"She just left them?" Owen is more than slightly surprised; he's downright shocked. "But, when?"

"Sometime last night, probably. They were in a covered basket that tied down so animals couldn't get in." Ramsey sniffs the noodles with a frown. "She even got the spices just right. Girl must have magic working for her."

Later on, when Owen cracks open his lunch deep within the mines, away from Chloe's prying eyes and Ramsey's knowing stare, he can't help but agree.

She has magic working for her.

* * *

This may or may not turn into a chapter story. I guess it depends on what you all think. Let me know if you'd like to see more of Etain, or if this is a perfect spot to end it.


End file.
